Twenty minutes of continuous drama showcasing the horror of working for a vodka-imbued perfectionist chef (Stephen Graham) who has to run an hectic kitchen of professionals (and lazy gits) whilst trying to keep his increasingly irritated front of house manager placated as she relays complaints from the hungry that it's all just taking too long to get their mallard from saucepan to sauce. It's nearly Christmas but any spirit of peace and goodwill has long been abandoned as the freneticism reaches it's not entirely unsurprising denouement. I thought the dialogue a little unnecessarily angry and confrontational at times, but director Philip Barantini let's Graham flow freely with this natural and quite unsettling look at what goes on behind the doors. Perhaps worth considering when we think to complain in a restaurant, next time?
